


"I told you not to fall in love with me."

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Don't Post To Another Site, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Mummy is a bit not good, Smoking, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Mycroft and Greg have been together long enough to necessitate a visit to meet Mummy. Greg is not taking this seriously and Mycroft fears the worst.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 30
Kudos: 175





	"I told you not to fall in love with me."

“It’ll be fine, love. Stop worrying.” Greg patted Mycroft’s knee and then shifted the car into the next gear.

Mycroft stared gloomily out the car window. “It won’t be fine. You’ve no idea what we are in for.”

“Oh I think I can imagine.”

“Can you?” Mycroft whipped around in his seat fixing Greg with a steely glare.

“I have been interrogated by a Holmes before, you know.” Greg smiled slyly and risked a glance over at Mycroft glowering in the passenger seat.

“That was not an interrogation. That was merely an inquiry,” Mycroft clarified. “This will be worse. Much worse.”

“Oh dear.” Greg widened his eyes in mock horror.

“You’ll be grilled about every aspect of your childhood, schooling, and career. Then she’ll start in on us—how we met, why do we think we are compatible, what are our plans.” Mycroft slumped back in his seat. “I’m getting an ulcer just thinking about it.” He rubbed his upper abdomen.

“Perhaps I should turn the car around, and say we had a flat or you're down with stomach flu?”

“No. It’s too late.” Mycroft pointed to a cottage just off the road. “Turn here.”

Greg pulled into the drive of a comfortable looking country cottage. The front lawn had just been cut, and when Greg got out of the car he took a deep breath. “Oh smell the clean, country air.”

“No, thank you. I’d prefer not to have an allergy attack,” Mycroft muttered as he shut the car door.

Greg shook his head, and followed Mycroft through the gate and to the front door.

The front door opened wide and revealing an elderly woman with Mycroft’s blue eyes smiling widely. “Mikey! You made it!”

“Mycroft, Mummy,” Mycroft sighed as he was enveloped in a warm hug.

“And you must be DI Gregory Lestrade.” Mrs. Holmes smiled pleasantly. “Did Mikey not tell you to take the M4 out of London? You’re several minutes late. I hope the roast isn’t ruined.”

“Ah… It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Holmes.” Greg looked at Mycroft, who only rolled his eyes in response. Greg decided to take one for the team. “He did, but I wanted to take a more scenic route and chose the A3. I’m sorry if we’re late.”

“Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters.” She stepped back and ushered them inside.

* * *

With shaking hands Greg tried to light a cigarette. Mycroft took the lighter and flicked the flame into existence. Greg inhaled deeply as his cigarette lit.

“Jesus Christ,” Greg muttered. “You weren’t fucking kidding.” He stared at Mycroft, who passively lit his own cigarette and blew the smoke out into the garden.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

Greg wrinkled his brow. “When?”

“Last week,” Mycroft replied.

Greg thought back. “Is that what you were saying?” He asked.

Mycroft hummed as he took another drag. Then he spoke, “Yes, you said, ‘Dear god, I think I’m falling in love with you.’ And I replied, ‘Don’t fall in love with me. It’ll end badly.’”

Greg nodded and pondered this for a moment. “Be fair, it was a little hard to understand you with my cock in your mouth,” he countered.

“I was being perfectly clear.” Mycroft sniffed.

Greg sighed, “Well, it’s too late now.” He took another deep drag on the cigarette he was holding.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Greg put out the half smoked cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and pocketed it. He nudged Mycroft around to face him, gently holding him by the shoulders. “I love you, Mycroft Holmes. You’re scary, gorgon mother isn’t going to make me run away and it’ll not end badly.”

Mycroft managed a small smile. Greg smiled back and leaned in to taste the cigarette smoke on Mycroft’s lips.

Mycroft responded to the tender kiss. The cigarette dangled from his fingers, forgotten. His other hand rested, warm, on Greg’s hip.

“Are you kissing in the front yard?” Mrs. Holmes leaned out the front door.

Greg and Mycroft leapt apart, standing shoulder to shoulder. Mycroft dropped his cigarette and Greg quickly stepped on it.

“David Mycroft Stuart Holmes, I thought I raised you better than that. Kissing in the front yard for all the neighbors to see.”

“My fault, ma’am,” Greg hurriedly replied. “I couldn’t resist stealing a kiss.” He slipped his hand in Mycroft’s and raised it up to his lips.

Mrs. Holmes snorted and closed the door. Greg heaved a sigh of relief.

“Well, at least I know she does remember my full name,” Mycroft mused.

Greg squeezed Mycroft’s hand. “Shall we go in, have our pudding and tea, and then we can make our final escape?”

Mycroft adjusted his posture and gave Greg’s hand a return squeeze. “Yes. _‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends…’_ ”

“ _Cry ‘God for Harry, England and Saint George!’_ ” Greg responded.

Mycroft looked at Greg and quirked a smile. Greg grinned, and they headed back into the house.

**Author's Note:**

> The quote at the end is from Shakespeare's Henry V.


End file.
